


Midnight Snack

by onotherflights



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Baking, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, girlfriends bein cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 00:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17334908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onotherflights/pseuds/onotherflights
Summary: Mila and Sara wake up in the middle of the night to bake cookies. That’s literally it. Just shameless fluff.





	Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> really projecting that wlw / i want a gf energy into 2019.

Their bed was warm, so it didn’t make sense that her feet were cold. 

Mila resisted opening her eyes in the dark. She didn’t really need to because her hands knew Sara well. She reached out, touching her waist softly before pulling her in. 

“Where did you go?” She mumbled, still resigned to sleep. She rubbed her socked feet against the bare skin of her girlfriend’s, trying to warm them. They were chilled on the bottoms from the cold tile floor in their apartment. Mila gave a silent protest to this by kissing her temple, as if it would sway Sara to never leave the bed again. 

She had guessed it was a quick bathroom trip, but Sara always found a way of surprising her. 

“The kitchen,” she replied, carding a hand through short waves, her fingertips pressing gently into Mila’s scalp. Mila could fall asleep again just from the comforting pressure. 

“Why?” She yawned and moved her head from the pillow to Sara’s shoulder, breathing in the jasmine smell of her hair. 

“I set the oven to preheat.” 

She wasn’t even guilty about it anymore, and Mila didn’t even try to hide her sigh. It was no secret that Sara had a massive sweet tooth. With their dietary restrictions, it really was a problem. 

“Babe,” Mila groaned, though she was already getting out of bed. “You’ve got to quit it with the midnight snacks.” 

Sara slipped back out of bed behind her, swatting her backside playfully as she passed by into the hallway. 

“You don’t complain when the midnight snack is _you_.” 

Mila bit her bottom lip and shook her head as she followed her girlfriend out to the kitchen. It was useless, Mila wouldn’t fall back asleep until Sara was with her. And Sara wouldn’t be content until her craving was satisfied. 

Their apartment kitchen was small and standard, the yellow light of the oven and the light above the stove the only sources to see by. Mila pulled her phone out of her hoodie’s pocket, yawning as she leaned back against the countertop and selected the perfect playlist. There was one playlist that had all the songs that played on the radio when they were first dating, the ones they sang in the shower, the ones Sara hummed in half-sleep when she put her head on Mila’s shoulder during the ride home. 

The playlist was called _Home_.

She pressed the green play button as Sara pulled all of her hair up and tied it with a band. Mila went over, giving the bun on the top of her head three pats then kissed her forehead twice. She cradled Sara’s cheek, thumb brushing over the soft skin for a moment, before kissing her lips softly. The three-two-one was a silly tradition of theirs, and it always made Sara smile into their kisses. 

The oven’s beep interrupted them. Reluctantly, they parted and got to work. Sara had already sneakily made the batter, and it was Mila’s job to add the chocolate chips. 

“This many?” She asked, pouring a bit into the bowl. 

“More,” Sara grinned, her arms wrapped around her girlfriend’s waist as she looked over her shoulder. 

She poured in a bit more, “Now?” 

“Baby,” Sara dragged out the word, squeezing her around the middle and placing a kiss on her shoulder, “you know I want more than that.” 

She kept going until it was just the right amount, reaching behind her to feed one of the chunks of chocolate to her girlfriend. Sara kissed her painted-pink fingertips. 

They took turns scooping up the batter with a spoon. Sometimes the cookie dough ended up on the pan in a little mound, but sometimes it ended up on Sara’s lips. Also Mila’s lips, by association. 

They worked quietly, their playlist on low as they assembled the rows of dough by the faint yellow light. It was like they were scared of being caught. Baking cookies, of course. Not the kissing part. 

They sent their little rows of future cookies into the oven, blowing kisses as the tray slid onto the middle rack. “For luck,” Sara had said the first time they’d done it, and making it tradition since then. They washed their hands side by side in the sink, bumping hips playfully as they dried them.

Sara hopped up on the counter and Mila set the timer on her phone. 

“Do what you want to me for fifteen minutes,” Sara declared, and Mila laughed softly as she stood with her hips flush to the counter’s edge. She wrapped her arms around Sara’s middle and hummed as she pressed kisses to her neck. They trailed up and down her skin with no intention of going any further than simple affection. 

Their songs played softly in the background, and time seemed to slow. All they had to worry about was timing the cookies perfectly (to achieve the balance of chewy and crisp, obviously) and staying awake long enough to eat them. 

Sara ran her hands through Mila’s hair lazily, and seemed to be lost in thought completely until she broke the quiet. 

“Do you ever miss the early days, when we were wild and couldn’t keep our hands off each other?” 

Mila looked up, her chin resting on Sara’s chest. She smirked, wrapping her arms around Sara and pulling her close until they were pressed together. 

“We were never that wild, _moy tsvetok,_ ” she amended, “and I still can’t keep my hands off you.” 

Sara cooed and slid her fingertips under Mila’s chin. She brought her up to her mouth for a kiss that could have lasted hours or mere seconds. They didn’t keep track of how many times their lips pressed warmly against each other’s, or how many strands of dark hair Mila’s fingers wandered through. The only thing they noticed was the eventual ring of the timer, and even still. They kept on kissing until the end of the song. 

Mila reluctantly pulled away and got the oven mittens on. They were mismatched but they did the job and the cookies filled the kitchen with a warm familiarity. 

As their work cooled, they poured mugs of chilled milk and curled onto the sofa. Sara brought over a plate, one cookie already halfway in her mouth. 

They put on a baking show, something easy enough to pay attention to while they ate their cookies but they didn’t worry about missing much once they were inevitably distracted. 

In the early morning hours, Mila was fast asleep with her head resting on Sara’s stomach. Sara stroked her bare skin fondly and turned off the TV, setting the remote down next to the plate of cookie crumbs. 

She shifted to pull a blanket around them, and accidentally pulled Mila half out of her sleep in doing so. 

“Where did you go?” She mumbled, her warm sweet breath tickling Sara’s skin. 

Sara laughed softly and kissed the crown of her head. She answered, and it was deemed good enough for Mila to return to her dreams, and Sara soon joined her. 

“I’ve always been right here.”

**Author's Note:**

> moy tsvetok = my flower (i'm an idiot, pls correct me if this is wrong)


End file.
